My poem is intentionally pragmatic, reflecting my own scientific approach to life and death.

I was prompted to write my poem ‘When I am dead’ following the death of my own father last year at the age of 102.  During his final years, his increasingly frailty and frequent bouts of illness caused him to regret having lived to such a great age and this is reflected in my poem, which I have written very much from a scientist’s viewpoint of the circle of life.

When I am Dead

What will become of me when I am dead?

I often wonder this as I grow older.

The thought comes to me frequently and I

Suspect that my subconscious mind grows bolder

As my demise inevitably draws closer.

We know that that death’s a natural event

That ends the life of everything around us.

We see it daily in all living things –

In insects, plants and fungi that confound us.

Our own mortality, though, seems surreal.

I understand the universe recycles

All matter that exists within its bounds.

I know the atoms that make up my body

Are resting there so briefly it astounds

Me that I’m merely a repository.

Through all the breaths I’ve taken, I’ve inhaled

The molecules of those who’ve lived before.

Exhaling, I give compounds to the ether

To be absorbed next week, next year and more,

By others whohave never known my name.

I’ll pay back all the elements I’ve borrowed –

Some in my lifetime, others when I’m gone.

A most efficient process of recycling

Without which living things could not go on.

The building blocks would rapidly deplete.

I totally accept a world existed

Before my birth, although a strange conception.

And equally I know that one is certain to remain

When I am gone. But what is the perception

That enables me to visualise this future?

Life is an endless struggle for survival –

A struggle that we know we all shall lose.

Are we the only species with awareness

Of our mortality? Why do we choose

To try to live as long as we are able?

Do other creatures seek their own longevity

Or is their aim survival of their kind?

Some sacrifice themselves to reproduce

And once they have achieved this, they’re resigned;

Their job is done. Their purpose is fulfilled.

So why then are we humans all so eager

To live on way beyond a useful age?

And why have many people over centuries

Longed for that immortality, which any sage

Should know would spell the death of all that lives?

In common, I imagine, with most others,

I wish a peaceful death to end my life.

For some, this comes much sooner than they’d like it

And painfully, perhaps; it’s all too rife.

So maybe that’s a reason why some fear it.

It’s not the state of being dead that troubles,

But wondering when and how and where I’ll be.

While those whose lives are longer than they wish

Just yearn to leave this world and hope to see

An end to their intolerable state.

So take my kidneys, liver, heart and colon,

My pancreas and lungs, and take my brain.

I’ll have no further need for all these organs

So use them to relieve another’s pain.

Absurdly, though, I’d like to keep my eyes!

I wonder when the atoms in my body

Will show up somewhere else in other form.

That will depend how long my corpse remains

Exposed to air and moisture, whether warm

Or cold, refrigerated and embalmed.

Whilst I myself am not concerned about

The creatures that will certainly consume me,

I hope I shall not die and lie alone

For days or weeks because I would presume the

Image of my rotting would abhor.

My nearest and my dearest would recoil

Identifying each decaying feature.

I really would prefer to be remembered

As when I was a scientist, a teacher,

A wife, a mother, grandmother and friend.

Written By:  Valerie Simpson BSc CChem FRSC